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A little over a year ago, I had to place my beautiful, artistic, feisty mother in the dementia unit on the second floor of the Garry J. Armstrong long-term care home. Needless to say, this change was devastating for our family.

No one ever thinks it will happen to them, but it does. It’s a heart-wrenching experience, but from the moment our family entered the building for the first time, we were warmly welcomed. It’s a daunting experience to meet so many people wandering the halls with dementia. How does one react? The staff made us feel comfortable immediately and introduced us to a few residents who had gathered around. They even gave us a few anecdotes about each person – what they liked, who they were. The residents were treated like normal people, not patients. All interactions we saw on that first day were with respect, humour and kindness.

We were very impressed and so relieved. It felt like we were coming into a happy home. Mom would be OK.

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She has now been a resident for more than a year and my first impressions have remained true. I simply cannot say enough great things about the extraordinary staff. The variety of jobs they perform every day is not for the weak-hearted. Toileting routines, hand-feeding, dressing, comforting, tears, hugs, dealing with outbursts — I have witnessed all of these. There is no rushing. They take their time dealing with any of these situations with kindness, patience, humour and compassion.

It’s so reassuring to see the genuine warmth expressed on any given day at any time. It becomes obvious that these caregivers become attached to our loved ones.

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Karen Portielje, her mother and daughter Sitia. /jpg

I have seen an open, flexible, caring environment where the residents are allowed to roam freely and safely. My mother was allowed to re-arrange tables and chairs in the dining room, no doubt preparing for a dinner party for which she is famous. Others can be found re-tracing their paths over and over again down the halls. The staff members always try to engage the residents – from a simple hello to a full chat to a kind re-direct if the situation requires. I have often seen residents sitting in the nurse’s office simply observing the staff going about their work. That inclusivity is incredible.

In my last conference regarding my mother’s health, I was impressed with their intimate knowledge of my mother on a day-to-day basis. They know everything about my mom: her incontinence, the dry skin on her back, her need for new socks, her laughter at sing-alongs and, of course, her mental decline. They are aware of the smallest details concerning her, and there is nothing that happens that I am not informed about either in person or over the phone.

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This is amazing service and care that one would expect to find in a private institution, not a city-run one. It was not easy to hear she is declining, but these wonderful people had a gentle way of dealing with end-of-life care. Their empathy and the respect for my mother’s wishes were duly noted. I could not ask for more.

I believe people who choose this profession are beyond special. They are truly unique individuals. This is abundantly evident in my experience with the second-floor staff. If it was within my power, their salaries would rise exponentially and more staff would be hired. They rely on many volunteers, as there is still a shortage of caregivers. This makes their current ability to offer this kind of care even more exceptional.

As we are all aware, the boomers are coming in a huge wave. These are the very people who will care for us in the future, so let’s take time to not only appreciate all the effort they perform on a daily basis for all of our loved ones, but to ensure that cutbacks to long-term care are not negotiable.

Karen Portielje is a retired teacher and grandmother of a delightful two-year-old boy.

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